OLD McDONALD (The real story)

Old McDonald had a farm

And on that farm there was a cow

Who hadn’t learned to moo

She simply didn’t know how

So old McDonald had to show her

“I want a moo moo here

A moo moo there

I want a moo moo, everywhere.”

And the cow said, “Oh!

“All right, I’ll give it a go.”

Now on that farm there was a goat

Who always wanted to eat

But she had never bothered to learn

How to utter a single bleat

So the farmer had to show her,

“I want a bleat, bleat here

A bleat, bleat there.

I want a bleat, bleat everywhere,`”

And goat said,”Right you are.

“It’s easy to go Baah.”

And on the farm there was a horse

So busy eating hay

She’d never learned

Between bites, horses should say “Neigh.”

So the farmer had to show her.

“I want a neigh neigh here

A neigh neigh there

I want a neigh neigh everywhere.”

And the horse said “ Right.

“I’ll do it every morning and night.”

Now on that farm there was a duck

And the farmer was taken aback

To learn the duck

Had never learned to quack.

So he had to show her.

“I want a quack, quack here.

“A quack, there there.

“I want a quack quack everywhere.”

And the duck said :”I will

“I have plenty of quacks inside my bill.”

Well, on that farm there was a dog

His job was to look scary and tough.

But he didn’t frighten anyone

Because he couldn’t say Woof

So the farmer had to show him.

“I want a woof-woof here.

A wood-woof there,

I want a woof-woof everywhere,”

And the dog said: “While I’m in the yard

“I’ll woof, because I’m on guard.”

And on that farm there was a hen

Who’d never learned to cluck

She was too busy pecking and

Scratching in the muck.

So the farmer had to show her.

“I want a cluck cluck here

A cluck cluck there

“I want a cluck-cluck everywhere.”

And the hen said: “Ok,  OK,

“I’ll cluck-cluck every day.”

And the animals said to Old Mac

It was time he learned to sing

Whats the point of being in a good mood

If you only say everything?”

But the farmer had never learned

So animals had a go

Now you copy us they said

And he sang E-I-E-I-O

NETTLES

Do yer want some?

Well, do yer?

Come close enough and’

We’ll stick it to yer.

Fancy yer chances?

Think you’re tough?

You’ll soon be yelling

You’ve had enough.

Because we’re nettles

An’ we’ve got barbs and stings

Instead of flowers and petals.

We don’t snarl or bite

We can’t make a scene

We’re just horribly ugly

An’ totally mean.

We hang around

Just being sly

Till an arm or leg

Brushes by

Then we get yer

Because we’re nettles

An’ we’ve got barbs and stings

Instead of flowers and petals.

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Don’t be fooled by nettles, they really do hate you. Think about it: nothing else feels their stings because all other animals are protected by fur, or hair, or feathers or a complete lack of nerves or brain. So the nettles have evolved their stings especially to hurt humans, no one else and just for the sake of it.  They don’t offer protection because a scythe, a strimmer or a big stick soon sorts them out. Therefore, their stings are pure malice. You feel the sting and then it goes away, but two hours later it comes back and hurts all over again.  They are sneaky and really do hate us. Left alone for another 10 million years they would evolve the ability to use poisoned daggers.

TWO ROYAL SHORTIES

The Duke of Edinburgh lit the grill

At the royal barbeque on the green

He turned to the honoured guests and said

“Gentlemen, let us toast the Queen.”

*

From Queens Club no

we have a tennis score for you

A close three-setter ended

Elizabeth I Elizabeth II

YAKKETY GRAN

Natter Natter Natter Natter Natter Natter Natter

My gran could talk night and day

Chatter Chatter Chatter Chatter Chatter Chatter Chatter

It she ever stops it’s only because

She’s trying to think of something to say

Yakkity Yakkity Yakkity Yakkity Yakkity

She’d talk for England if she could

Clackety Clackety Clackety Clackety Clackety

And now I come to think of it

England wishes she would

We’d beat Brazil home and away

Germany wouldn’t stand a chance

We’d thrash Portugal and Argentina

And win nine-nil against France.

She’d run rings around Russia

Prattling on like she’s insane

She’d even learn to gossip in Spanish

If it meant getting the better of Spain

She’d talk the hind leg off a donkey

She doesn’t need to practice much

And she be twice as good as Holland

Because she talks double-Dutch

And after we beat Italy

In the final of the Talking World Cup

She’d say she was just getting started

And had no intention of shutting up

But sometime she’d have to retire

And she wouldn’t scream or squawk

Because she’s landed a job

As assistant manager of TalkTalk

GUESS WHO’S COMING TONIGHT

It’s Christmas Eve,

A minute to midnight.

You should be excited,

But something’s not right.

You’re nowhere near sleepy

And your eyes should be shut tight

There’s something creepy,

About the house tonight.

A slow frost and a weak moon

The night’s in no rush

Nothing’s out of place just a weird

Unsettling, spine shivery, hush.

THE DOOR!

The bedroom door begins to open.

Creaking just a little

Someone does not want to wake you

But you are alert

You catch your breath

It is someone you know?

Is it? Is it?

A dark figure

In a dark cloak

Under a dark hood.

And you cannot see his face

He’s getting closer, closer

Your eyes are drawn to his sleeves

Something slowly, slowly emerges

His hands,

HIS HANDS!

They catch the light from the moon

You can see them now

They glisten

They are metal

The fingers are long and sharp as bayonets

They would rip out your throat

Or probe your brain through your eyes

Or tear out your heart.

They are not hands, they are talons

He laughs. Not ho-ho-ho

But Aaaahh-ha-ha.

A cackle.

And you try to scream, but you can’t

His hands are above you now

And you know, Oh yes you know

In that moment of deathly pause

As he reaches down for your face

It’s Santa Claws.